


Nick & Harry's Sex Playlist

by Kili_M



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cheating, First Time, Getting Back Together, Inspired by Music, M/M, Minor Harry Styles/Taylor Swift, POV Alternating, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-07-24 21:55:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16183949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kili_M/pseuds/Kili_M
Summary: Some songs Nick & Harry had sex to, years after years





	Nick & Harry's Sex Playlist

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thanks to Em, my amazing friend and beta, and sorry for stressing you out so much with deadlines.  
> Also a big big thank you to Writcraft for running this great Fest for the second year (and putting up with my lateness ...)
> 
> As always, disclaimer that English isn't my first language and all remaining mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Notes on cheating warning at the end.

** February 2012 - _Genesis_ by Grimes **

“I can’t believe you haven’t heard of Grimes yet, Harold !” shouts Nick from the ensuite bathroom where he’s putting on his super-hydrating, age-defying cream before going to bed. “Her album Visions is one of the best things to happen to music in years ! Also, we had her on the show recently, and she was so weird. I love her.”

He hears a grunt coming from the bedroom, probably Harry’s way of acknowledging he’s at least vaguely listening. For someone who is making a rather successful career of it, the kid really needs to be educated about contemporary music.

Nick finishes massaging the corners of his eyes and trying to will his baby crow’s feet away with the force of his mind. With a last look in the mirror, he pops on his glasses and comes out of the bathroom to find Harry starfished on his bed, wearing only a pair of tiny black boxer shorts. Nick would feel flustered if he wasn’t used to Harry’s exhibitionist ways by now. In the early months of their friendship, he’d learned that Harry was a shameless flirt, that he apparently loved being half-naked all the time and that he seemed to make a game of Nick’s evident attraction to him. Maybe even a bit too much.

The flirting, especially, had gotten worse in the recent weeks. Harry was on a break in the UK before One Direction’s big US tour and he seemed to have made a mission out of dropping constant innuendos around Nick and acting like he wouldn’t mind their nights in the same bed transforming into something more. Nick was starting to find it a bit annoying. He usually had little patience for straight guys who liked to play gay - apart if it resulted in him getting a nice quick shag, which sometimes happened. Harry, despite his cute dimples and the fact that he was a good friend, was no exception. But Nick didn’t really know how to raise it with him.

Nick had taken him to a party where he was DJing that night, happy to go out for a fun time with a pal. Only, Harry had plastered himself to Nick as soon as they arrived to the venue and never really left. He had a hand rubbing the small of Nick’s back most of the time, sending shivers up Nick’s spine. And when Nick’s DJ set was done and they headed for the dancefloor, Harry had tried to drunkenly grind against him along with the music while slurring in Nick’s ear that they should head home soon.

Nick had rolled his eyes. His little popstar was the worst slutty drunk.

They’d made it to Nick’s place, but not without Nick having to physically push back Harry in the cab home when the younger boy had tried to climb on his lap, gently telling him to ‘keep his best moves for the girls’. That seemed to calm Harry and he hadn’t tried to bite Nick’s ears or anything of the like since they’d arrived in the Primrose Hill flat.

Now, Nick has Grimes playing in his bedroom while getting ready for sleep because he couldn’t fathom the fact that Harry had never heard of her. Also, in Nick’s opinion, _Visions_ is a good album to fall asleep to. Very relaxing.

Nick pushes Harry’s long limbs out of the way and slides into bed. A second later, without having any time to process it, he finds himself with a lapful of Harry.

‘’I think we should have sex,’’ Harry tells Nick very seriously, looking at him straight in the eyes.

Nick’s brain might explode.

‘’Uh ?’’ is the only things he manages to utter before Harry’s lips are on his and the rest of whatever internal debate and gigantic freakout he was having are pushed to the back of his mind to explore later. Much later. For now, he’s got a warm and willing boy mouthing at his cock right here in his bed and Grimes’ _Genesis_ playing in the background. What could be better ?

 

** December 2012 - _All I want for Christmas is you_ by Mariah Carey **

It’s Christmas day and Harry is at Nick Grimshaw’s parents’ house. Not so long ago, this would have seemed like a crazy idea. But now that his whole life has reached an unprecedented level of madness, the quiet of the Grimshaws’ living room in Oldham feels like a safe haven.

And, most importantly, Nick is there with him. His anchor, a magnet he keeps being pulled to. A warm, comforting presence by Harry’s side where they’re cuddled on the couch, looking silently at the flickering lights of the Christmas tree. There’s seasonal music playing weakly from Nick’s phone where it’s abandoned on the coffee table. Harry never wants this to end.

Hell, Harry wants so many things. He’d wanted Nick, and he'd gotten him. A best friend and, for months, a brilliant lover. But then he’d wanted Taylor, and that meant having to leave parts of Nick behind, which he’d never expected to find difficult to do. Taylor was so cool, and fierce, and beautiful. She was everything Harry had wanted then, but he wasn’t sure anymore. Their pre-Christmas ski trip had been a bit of a disaster and he wasn’t clear on what they were doing now. And maybe that was for the best. At least that helped him pretend he wasn’t feeling too guilty for wanting Nick, again and again, so much that he’d driven to Oldham on Christmas day just to see him and feel his arms around him.

And for other things too. Things that make Harry’s insides squirm with shameful anticipation. He knows he shouldn’t, but he wants it so much. It’s easy here, in the dark of an empty room in Northern England, to pretend like Taylor and everything else are just part of a mad fever dream. Like only Nick and him are real, like nothing else matters.

Nick hasn’t said much to him since Aimee left them to go to bed and they settled together on the couch. A silent Nick is unusual, but Harry appreciate the shaky truce they can build in the quiet. 

Harry has both arms wrapped around Nick’s neck and his legs thrown over Nick’s lap. They’re breathing at the same time, and it feels heartbreakingly intimate.

Harry doesn’t want to be in love with Nick. He can’t be in love with Nick. Most of the time, he thinks he’s fine, that his heart is strong enough to differentiate a good mate who shags him so good he sees stars from someone he could fall in love with. But in moments like these, when it’s just the two of them in the silence and everything is stripped bare of pretence, Harry isn’t sure about it anymore. 

He’s afraid. He’s greedy. He wants so much.

And then it happens. Almost naturally. Harry presses his lips against Nick’s like a question. _Please let me_ , he wants to whine, _please don’t ask questions, because I already hate myself so much right now but if I don’t get you tonight I’ll be lost. Sorry for being like this and dragging you into this mess._

Maybe Nick gets it when their eyes meet, because he doesn’t say anything about Taylor, or about anything else. He just sucks in a breath and mutters “why do you do this to me” before pushing Harry on his back on his parents’ sofa and bending down to kiss him.

It’s wild, this kiss. Almost bruising. Like they both know they shouldn’t but can’t resist the raw desire they feel for each other.

Harry grips Nick’s hair tightly. He likes knowing that Nick can’t resist him, that he’ll never tell him no. It’s cruel, this feeling, but nothing is really right tonight.

They end up rubbing against each other on the sofa like teenagers, exchanging half moans in the dark and trying their best to stay quiet. All of their clothes stay on - it’s less real, that way. Feels less like crossing a line. Mariah Carey’s _All I want for Christmas is You_ plays from Nick’s phone when Harry bites into Nick’s hand and comes, hard. What an ironic song for such a clandestine moment, he contemplates. He already feels the shame seeping into his lust-fogged brain, and he knows very well they’ll both hate themselves for it in the morning. But for now, all he can do - all he wants to do - is to get Nick to come and to kiss him for the rest of the night.

 

** November 2013 - _Toxic_ by Britney Spears **

“Come on, Grim, I’ve always wanted to try it !” a drunk Harry whines into Nick’s ear. He’s plastered against Nick’s back, his long arms wrapped around Nick’s torso from behind him, and Nick can feel his hot breath on the side of his face.

Thank God for the Delevignes and their kind of money that buys you a completely private party where phones are highly restricted. Anywhere else, people would have already been taking thousand of pictures of Harry Styles not so subtly grinding against Nick Grimshaw’s arse in the middle of a club dancefloor, his Hanson blond wig falling off his head.

“I can’t believe international sex god Harry Styles has never had sex in public toilets before,” replies Nick. He’s not too drunk, but his mind is hazy and he can’t really concentrate on anything other than the low arousal he feels from Harry’s words.

(“Can you fuck me in the toilets right here right now”, Harry had asked).

“Too risky”, mumbles Harry into his neck, from behind him. Then he proceeds to lick Nick’s ear, sending shivers everywhere in his body. “This is the perfect opportunity. Maybe one of the only ones I’ll ever get,” he all but whines in Nick’s hair.

“I doubt that, Popstar. You’re still very young,” Nick replies, trying to shake himself out of Harry’s octopus-like embrace. He fails.

“Yeah, but I want to do it with you”, singsongs Harry from behind him. And well … damn it. Nick’s not going to start pretending now that he isn’t easy for Harry because he very much is. So so easy. Too easy almost. They’re friends with benefits, nothing more. He should really stop this habit dropping everything for Harry, hungry that he is for his attention and time (and dick). But tonight isn’t the night. He’s kind of drunk and very warm and Harry Styles’ half-hard cock is pressing against his arse in the dark of a club. Nick is not going to say no to this.

The make it to the gents as discreetly as they can, going in separately only to find the bathroom empty. Perks of hen nights : not that many guys around. Nick takes charge easily. This is something he’s done countless times before with all sort of boys, in all sorts of toilets. The thrill of it never really wears off. And with Harry, it feels even more intoxicating, knowing how much it would mean if they got caught. 

Nick pushes Harry in one of the stalls and closes the door behind them. Harry’s lips are on his as soon at the lock slides into place. He’s greedy, pulling Nick to him with strong hands that still don’t really know their force, pressing his mouth against Nick’s without finesse. It doesn’t matter.

Then Harry turns around, his back to Nick, and presses himself against the door of the cubicle, pushing his hips back. 

“Fuck me please, Nick”, he breathes. His voice is rough.

Nick feels fond, for a second. His boy still has so much to learn. 

“Haz, as much as I want to fuck you, this isn’t really the best place to do it. How about we wait to be home to do that ?”

“But I want to,” all but whines Harry, looking back over his shoulder towards Nick.

Nick smiles and wraps Harry into his arms, grinding a bit against his arse just because he can.

“It’s too much prep and logistics, babe,” he whispers into Harry’s ear. “Do you even have lube with you ?”

“I have a condom,” replies Harry defensively.

“That’s not going to be enough, trust me. I speak from experience.” Nick pulls Harry off the door and turns him towards him again. He dips down for a kiss, pressing Harry against his chest, rubbing their clothed dicks together.

Harry melts into it for a moment, his hands groping Nick’s arse to press him harder against his own hips. 

The music from the club filters through the door. Nick laughs against Harry’s lips when he hears the muffled opening beats to Britney’s _Toxic_. It makes the evening seems strangely surreal, like out of a fevered dream. He loves it.

He manages to convince Harry that sharing quick handjobs while pressed against the door is a better idea and gets to work immediately, freeing Harry from his trousers while mumbling along to ‘You're toxic I'm slippin' under’. Harry doesn’t question it and reciprocates soon enough, but when they get back to Nick’s for the evening, elephant head and blonde wigs abandoned in a corner, he insists on playing _Toxic_ again to perform a very bad strip-tease for Nick before they roll in bed together and Nick gets to fuck him, finally.

Oh, how fond is he of this beautiful, brilliant, weirdo of a boy.

 

** June 2014 - _Reverie_ by Debussy **

The air is dark outside of Nick’s house, and heavy with the heat of the London summer. Everything is quiet now. The guests from the barbecue earlier have all gone home happy and warm, some still drunkenly chanting about football on their way out.

Harry does care about the World Cup, he truly does. But England had been eliminated already, so the match they’d watched all piled together in Nick’s lounge had not been a stressful one for him. The outcome didn’t matter much.

He was there to see Nick, anyway. Whatever the occasion.

Harry had been … craving Nick recently. More than usual. They’d been having sex as often as they could for now two years, but Harry’s need for Nick was not going away. If anything, it was more present, more desperate.

Harry doesn’t know what is happening to them tonight. He can blame it on the alcohol that they had drunk plenty of during the party. Or the warm darkness wrapping around them, stars almost visible outside through the polluted air of London. Maybe it’s just foolishness, too much sex with the same partner, especially a friend, messing with their heads. Maybe it’s Harry’s possibly ill-advised choice of a classical music playlist when Nick had asked him to put something on while they were retreating into the quiet house.

The music playing from Nick’s speakers now is melancholic and Harry can barely stand it. It makes it too much, combined with the feel of Nick around him as they fuck quietly in a cocoon of white sheets, a window open in the bedroom to let the night’s air in. It feels like too much, like the world is about to tip on its axis and nothing will ever be the same again. Like something is tugging at Harry’s heart, trying to rip it away from his ribs.

And Nick … Nick is looking at him like he’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. His eyes burn Harry with all the words they’ve left unsaid for years, all their agreements and promises never said aloud, all the other people they slept with that were abandoned selfishly for any chance of being back with each-other.

Harry wants to go slow, to take his time to fuck into Nick. And he does, for a bit, until it feels too much like making love and he doesn’t know how else to stop than to hike Nick’s legs higher on his back and drive into him harder, faster.

“What are we doing, Haz ?” breathes Nick, his eyes looking straight at Harry’s, his hands caressing his ribs.

“I don’t know,” sobs Harry in all honesty. He hides his face into Nick’s neck in case he starts crying, not wanting Nick to see it. Mercifully, he doesn’t, but he feels fragile nonetheless.

“I think we should stop this,” Nick says with a blank voice later in the night, when they’re laying side by side on the bed, come drying on a towel at their feet.

It hurts, but Harry knows what Nick means. They should stop having sex with each other if it’s going to be like this, too close to love and commitment for comfort. They should stop before it ruins everything they have.

Nick isn’t looking at him. His eyes are closed, and he’s breathing heavily, but not asleep. Harry drinks in the sight of him, the shape of his profile, the curve of his nose, the curls of his hair damp with sweat, the rise of his chest. His own heart beats too fast and the tears from earlier are back at the corners of his eyes. He lets one roll silently down his cheek before pressing Nick’s hand.

“Yeah we should.”

“We’re still best friends, though. That doesn’t change anything,” says Nick. He sounds earnest, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as Harry.

“Of course,” Harry replies. “Best friends forever.”

He doesn’t laugh and neither does Nick. Debussy’s _Reverie_ is still playing somewhere in the room, but nothing else is the same as it was before.

 

** December 2018 - _Untitled new Harry Styles song_ by Harry Styles **

“It’s good to see you Nick !” beams Anne when she opens the door for him, wrapping him into a hug as soon as he passes the threshold.

“Thanks for the invite,” says Nick once Anne’s released him. He hands her his bag of Christmas presents and food and goes to chuck his winter coat in the dedicated closet. He knows the house well, after so many Christmases spend there.

Nick follows Anne in the lounge where her cat comes to peer at him curiously. Nick crouches down to pet him, happy to have left his dogs with his parents for the evening.

He scans the empty house. It’s weirdly quiet, apart from the TV playing a _Doctor Who_ marathon at a low volume and Anne chatting away about Christmas dinner and the absence of snow this year. Nick wants to ask her where Harry is, but he doesn’t want to sound impolite either. He loves Anne and would gladly spend more time with her, but Harry’s latest text to him is still very present in his mind. _I have something very special for you and it’s about us_ , Harry had sent, cryptic as always.

_About us_ … Nick had stopped hoping about a _us_ for them a long time ago, probably that night in 2014 when they’d mutually decided to stop shagging before it destroyed both of them. It was all water under the bridge now, a fading memory tinted of regret. Nick couldn’t remember how Harry’s skin tasted anymore. So what on Earth had Harry done this time ? Nick was dying to know, but still wary of any hope that this could mean what he secretly wanted it to mean.

“Gemma is with Michal’s family today,” Anne announces as she joins Nick in the lounge. “It’s only me and Harry here. Very quiet.”

Before he can stop himself, Nick blurts: “Where is he ?” He winces at the anxious edge of his voice. 

Anne smiles knowingly, looking at him from the doorway. “He’s getting his thing ready upstairs. He’ll be here in a minute, don’t worry.”

‘I’m not worried’ wants to say Nick, but Anne knows him well. She can see right through him most of the time.

“Oh, great,” Nick says instead, wondering once again what Harry’s whole ‘thing’ is about. He’s trying hard not to go into full panic mode, but his mind is reeling with hypotheses and worst case scenarios. 

He manages to stay calm enough to have a nice chat with Anne, talking about their respective family Christmas dinners and updating each-other on the latest news in their lives. They are finally joined by Harry at the end of their first cup of tea. Nick watches him coming down the stairs almost greedily, drinking in the sight of his long frame and tanned skin that he aches to touch. 

“Hiya Grim, sorry for the wait,” Harry says in his usual slow tone. He smiles, warm and welcoming. Nick’s heart flutters.

Nick gets up to wrap Harry in his arms and squeeze him gently. The last time they’d seen each-other in person was in August, before Nick’s last show. It feels like a lifetime away now, like it always does when Nick is reunited with Harry in the flesh.

“It’s late. I’m going to bed,” announces Anne from behind them. “Good to see you Nick,” she finishes in a cheerful tone. 

Nick releases Harry from his embrace and looks as Anne pats her son on the shoulder, exchanging a long meaningful look with him. What was going on ?

They turn to watch Anne disappear up the stairs. Harry sighs next to Nick, and it sounds shaky.

“So, what’s the big thing ?” asks Nick, plastering a smile on his face to hide the anxiety rising in his chest. _Please don’t tell me you’re getting married or something like that_ , prays Nick internally, _I’m not sure I can pretend to be that much over you._

Harry fiddles with the phone on his hands. “Hum, let’s have a seat,” he mumbles.

_Oh God_ , thinks Nick, _it’s that bad._

He drops back down on the sofa and fixes his gaze on Harry. Over by the TV, his popstar is plugging his phone into an old portable speaker. Once he is done, he brings both with him to the sofa and sits down next to Nick.

“I’ve started working on my second album,” Harry says, looking pointedly at his hands. “I don’t have much yet, because I’d really like to take my time with it and I’m under no rush to get new stuff out in a while.” He pauses, turning his phone in his hands. “I’ve only written and recorded one song, actually. And I’d like you to listen to it, if that’s okay ?”

Nick feels a slight twinge of disappointment, but scolds himself. What was he expecting ? An confession of undying love ? What an idiot. At least, a new song is nothing bad. He shakes himself out of his reverie and nods at Harry: “Of course Haz, I would love to. But you have to promise me I’ll get the first radio play when this is out,” he jokes.

“Yeah, sure,” replies Harry. He turns on his phone and scrolls through a few audio files before pressing one titled StudioV5-Nsong.mp4. The music starts playing, slow and sweet.

They sit still, next to each other, listening to the song. Nick looks at Harry, Harry looks away. 

It’s … good. Or at least Nick likes it, very much, much more than he usually does these sort of slow ballads. Sure, Harry is no Adele, but his deep voice and the accompanying melody send shivers down Nick’s body as the song reaches the chorus.

The lyrics start making sense, telling a story of getting lost, exploring your heart and finding your way back to an old lover. There’s words of times past and yearning, of wanting someone you’re never sure how to have fully. 

The song ends and Nick is confused. He doesn’t want to hope …

“It’s about you,” blurts Harry. “About us. I’ve been thinking about us a lot since August and I just, like … wanted to put words on how I felt.” 

Nick stares at him, but Harry still avoids his gaze.

“I don’t want to force you into anything,” continues Harry, voice hesitant, “and I’ll understand if you don’t share my feelings and you’d rather I let it go. But I feel like we should give us another chance, have a go at it for real this time. And I don’t just mean the sex. I also want all the other stuff we never did before. I’m not afraid anymore. I’m ready for it if you are.”

Nick stays silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts. Wasn’t this what he’d always wanted from Harry, secretly ? “I think I need some time to think about it, Haz,” he croaks out. “This is all very sudden.”

“Yes, of course. Just let me know when you want to talk about it again.” Harry sounds disappointed. He’s someone used to getting what he wants right when he wants it. He’s not very used to people telling him no, Nick knows that. 

Nick takes in a breath. This feels a lot like sealing his fate. He racks his brain for things to say, still processing the fact that Harry wrote a song about him (for him) and all the implications this has. There’s a low, hot hum in his blood he knows well, the one that comes with the feeling of teetering between pure panic and arousal, Nick’s usual internal reaction to a fit guy telling him he wants into his pants (and more).

"I mean …’" he starts, weighing his words, ‘’I’m not saying no to anything. I do still need to figure out all the, hum, deeper feelings, but I’m happy to start again where we left off last time.’’ 

He sees Harry’s face light up. "Do you mean …" Harry trails off.

"Do I mean extremely good and pleasurable sex ? Yes Harold, I very much do."

_Fuck it,_ thinks Nick. _I don’t think I’ve got anything to lose here._

And maybe that wasn’t precisely what Harry wanted to hear after playing Nick his song, but he seems very happy to lead Nick upstairs with him and push him into his bedroom. They snog for a bit, re-discovering each-other with lips and tongues. 

At some point later, when they’re both hard and aching, sprawled on Harry’s bed and trying to find a tube of lube, Nick stops abruptly. "Haz, your mom. She’s going to hear everything. I can’t fuck you with her only a few meters away !"

Harry laughs and presses his face into Nick’s collarbone. "You idiot. First of all we had sex at your parents’ place numerous times when they were sleeping nearby and that never bothered you. And secondly, she’s asleep, she won’t hear a thing."

Nick frowns at him in reply.

‘’Well, if you’re so concerned about the noise, just play something. It’ll drown it out,’’ Harry suggests, moving from under Nick to line up their cocks. Then he breaks into a huge smile: ‘’Hey, let’s play your song !’’

"You narcissist," Nick replies. "Having sex to your own music …"

They play the song, in the end, because Nick had better things to do than to argue with Harry about overhearing parents and music choices. Better things like fingering Harry open and slowly sliding home into him, where he belonged. 

**Author's Note:**

> Cheating warning : contains a part where Harry has sex with Nick while still dating Taylor Swift.
> 
> I hope you liked it !


End file.
